


Ride With Me

by blinking_post



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Companion Piece, Established NyongTory/Gri, Explicit Language, M/M, Romance, TopRi Endgame, of the emotional variety, with kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 14:07:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5873386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blinking_post/pseuds/blinking_post
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It was inevitable, he tells himself.  Him and Top-hyung.  Inevitable.  Fated.  Fucking meant to be.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Maybe he just wants to make himself feel better.  Less like the asshole that he is.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He is.  An asshole, that is.</i>
</p><p><b>Companion Fic</b> to <i><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6075927">Ready to Lose</a></i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Ride With Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first official TopRi fic. It kind of makes me sad that TopRi is not that popular because I adore the pairing so much. At one point I just went, "Okay world, if you won't give me TopRi fics, I'll just make my own!"
> 
> Anyhow, it's a new kind of fic for me. I don't like reading or writing cheating fics, but this idea kind of took root. At first Seungri was meant to straddle the line between cheating/not cheating and I guess in a way it's really up to you how you view what is cheating and what isn't.
> 
> I do seriously adore this couple though (and I have absolutely no feelings on GRI/Nyongtory). Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this =)

\----

 

At a certain point he knew this is where they were headed, him and Top-hyung.  He must have.  He felt it sizzle into life, a low hum underneath his skin, softly at first, barely perceptible, like a frog in a pot of water inching closer and closer to boiling, only to realize too late that it’s over.  Another victim.  Seungri is that frog.  If only he could have taken a step back and feel all that pent up electricity building in every corner of his body, every single cell, maybe he would have jumped out in time.

 

Would it have mattered?

 

Would he have wanted it any other way?

 

It was inevitable, he tells himself.  Him and Top-hyung.  Inevitable.  Fated.  Fucking meant to be.

 

Maybe he just wants to make himself feel better.  Less like the asshole that he is.

 

He is.  An asshole, that is.

 

Because Top-hyung was there with his beautiful face and his deep, piercing eyes glazed over with the sheen of alcohol, and he had lolled his head over to face Seungri with mirth on his lips and all Seungri had wanted right then was to lean in and taste the wine in Top-hyung’s mouth.  Nevermind that he’s already attached to someone, Jiyong no less.  Nevermind that he’s aware of just how Top-hyung feels about him because a few months earlier the two of them were hanging out, slightly drunk then too, and he had jokingly said something about Top-hyung having always been in love with him only to be met with no denial.  It should have made things awkward except all it did was make him feel exhilarated, fucking alive for the first time in who knows how fucking long.  Instead of backing off, of giving Top-hyung space, he’d done the exact opposite.  He had clung on with every spare moment he had even when he didn’t didn’t understand what or how he was feeling.

 

They obviously didn’t talk about it then.  They don’t talk about it now.  It’s just another unacknowledged secret swept under the rug and hidden away from Jiyong.

 

Except now with everything hazy and looking at Top-hyung who has his full, bottom lip sticking out, mouth slightly parted, Seungri realizes what he’s been feeling these past few months is desire.  He looks at Top-hyung with his intense, unfocused eyes and his flushed cheeks and he just wants so much.  He’s never been good about not getting what he wants so he leans right in, eyes flicking up to meet Top-hyung’s wide ones and he should stop but fuck it.

 

Fuck everything.

 

Their lips brush and it’s like hot, molten lava and the cold, winter arctic breeze all at once and Jesus fucking Christ, he had never felt anything burn through his core like this.

 

One strained moan from him and something shakes loose between the two of them, like a dam falling apart and suddenly it’s a flood of wants and desires they can no longer keep to themselves.  Top-hyung climbs over him, pushing him back into the arm of the couch, spreading his legs apart to make room for himself.  Hands are frantic, tearing away at clothes.  He’s vaguely aware that the buttons of his shirt fly everywhere, free from its threads in Top-hyung’s haste, but he can’t seem to care about a ruined shirt when the palms sliding down the smooth expanse of his chest light a fire it its trail.

 

He’s not thinking straight.  He hasn’t been thinking straight these past few weeks.

 

Would it have mattered if he had been?  If either of them were?

 

Top-hyung nips a line of hot kisses down the side of Seungri’s neck, down his chest, the flat of his abs, hands scrambling at Seungri’s belt even as Seungri’s own hands tangle in his hyung’s hair, lightly pushing him down, down, down.  The belt is undone quickly, the button of his jean next, zipper sliding down and then--

 

Then his phone goes off and for the first few seconds they ignore it, it’s not important.  Nothing is more important than this moment but then they realize at the same time that it’s Jiyong’s ringtone and that breaks whatever magical alternate universe Top-hyung and he had slipped into, leaving a chill that makes them freeze where they’re at.  Top-hyung’s forehead thunks against his ribs, a hysterical half sob half laugh escapes him, shaking the upper half of his body and in turn, shaking Seungri’s as well.

 

Head thrown back, the palm of his hands pressing hard into his eyes, he might have thought Top-hyung crazy if he could focus on anything other than the guilt that pools in his stomach.  The shitty thing is that the want for Top-hyung dwarfs whatever amount of guilt he does feel and that in itself just adds another layer of guilt.  His eyes prickle with tears and if he didn’t have his fucking hands pressing into his eyes right then he might just cry.

 

But fuck if he ever wants to leave this.

 

He wants Top-hyung so much, so much it fucking hurts and shit, here it goes.  The fucking waterworks.

 

Jiyong finally gives up after too much time as passed.  His phone stops.

 

Top-hyung stops too, an end to his own mixture of madness.  He crawls up towards Seungri and plants a kiss on his mouth, harsh and cruel, an edge there that is razor sharp.  When he pulls away, he jumps off like Seungri is too much fire and his face is well, it’s fucking beautiful, is what it is.  It’s never not fucking beautiful but there’s a hard set to it that scares Seungri, especially when he forces out an insincere smile.

 

“Let’s not do that again sometime,” Top-hyung says with crude cheerfulness, a lilt that does nothing to hide the hot flash of rage just boiling underneath the surface.  Whether that anger is directed at Seungri or himself, he doesn’t know but Top-hyung doesn’t stick around long enough for Seungri to find out.

 

He’s left there on the couch in a sea of buttons wearing a buttonless button-down shirt, splayed open, feeling pathetic and like he might just cry again not because he almost cheated (actually cheated?  Has been cheating this whole time?  How the hell do you define these things?) on his boyfriend but because Top-hyung had walked away possibly angry at him and all Seungri wants to do is say sorry and make promises that will break the ones he’s made with Jiyong.  He wants to curl up against Top-hyung’s side and never leave, not even when everyone else tries to force him to.  And they will.  They’re fuckers that way.

 

Much in the same way, at a certain point he must have known it was over, this thing between him and Jiyong.  Felt it in his bones, seeping into the dark crevices of his subconscious until it took root.  Maybe he’s a little sad about it too.  Maybe that’s why he hesitated for so long.

 

How long has he been with Jiyong?

 

Well, how long has it been since they debuted?

 

Nine years?

 

So they’ve been together nine years.  Nine fucking years.  Almost a decade.

 

They were good, great even, at times.

 

They started like this, him and Jiyong.  He was seventeen and Jiyong was nineteen and they were teenagers and young and reckless and ready to take the world by storm.  Jiyong was just dumped by his girlfriend and Seungri himself was so, so young then.  Young and curious and horny all the time and there Jiyong was with his sad, puppy eyes and his high cheekbones and his pretty smiles, pearly white teeth bared for the world to see even through the tears and the touching.  He touched Seungri all the time and it just--

 

It just happened.

 

Because he was young.  Because he was stupid.  Because he was horny and at seventeen he wanted Jiyong more than he had ever wanted anyone before.  Because Jiyong had been tormenting him with another bout of casual touches and he had always had poor impulse control so he touched back, hands sliding into Jiyong’s too long hair, kissing and claiming and releasing all that pent-up tension bubbling between the two of them.

 

Maybe Jiyong was surprised.  Maybe he wasn’t.  Maybe he played Seungri into making that first move.  Highly probable that he did.  Whatever it may have been it hardly matters now.  What mattered was that he kissed Jiyong and Jiyong kissed back.  That’s where they began.  Two bodies tangled together in one of YG’s practice room alone, moaning and frantic.  He had come so fast in his jeans at the feel of pressure of a hand rubbing against his dick through the fabric he might have felt embarrassed if not for the way Jiyong had smiled at him with adoring eyes, calling him cute even as he moved in a for a quick, final peck.

 

They had spent the next nine months on edge, a buzz under their skin, constantly looking for empty nooks or forgotten closets to sneak a few moments alone so they can get their next fix, so that Jiyong could slide his hand down Seungri’s pants and a rub a release out of him or for Seungri to drop down to his knees and worship Jiyong with his pretty mouth encircled around his dick, lips slicked with spit as he sucked.

 

It’s surprising how much he loves sucking dick.  He loved that he could drive Jiyong crazy with teasing nips and kisses and shallow sucks until Jiyong was crying out with frustration and thrusting down his throat.  Seungri loved that, the way Jiyong lost control, pushed beyond his limit until he didn’t care anymore, until all he wanted and did was used and abused Seungri’s throat until it was raw.  He always did apologize afterwards but Seungri revelled in his voice turning to gravel, broken, reminding Jiyong for hours -- the whole day if he was lucky -- of just what he’d done to their cute, youngest member.  And afterwards maybe he had given more parts for Seungri to sing because he felt sorry.  Seungri didn’t demand it, he isn’t a whore, but he’s not going to deny a gift.

 

It’s what Jiyong does, the sentimental fool.  He writes songs about the people he falls in love with and for the ones who have the chance to sing, he writes songs  _for_ them.

 

As much as they fucked with heat and fire and lust everywhere they could find two seconds to be alone, there was still a genuine sweetness there. What you would call innocence.

 

Call him an ungrateful brat.  A dick.  An asshole.  Heartbreaker.  None of those names are untrue.

 

But he did.  At some point he did love Jiyong.  You can’t be with someone for nine years and not love them.  Anyone who thinks otherwise is just plain wrong.

 

Here’s the thing though.  In all that time he’s never loved Jiyong as much as he loves Top-hyung.  Maybe if he did he wouldn’t be where is now, planning on ending it with one member so that he can maybe start something new with another, if Top-hyung would have him that is.  (He will.  Seungri is sure of it.)

 

It’s not intentional.  It’s not like he woke up one day and decided, “Gee, I think I’m going to stop loving Jiyong this moment and fall for Top-hyung instead.  That sounds like a great idea.”  But honestly, if given the opportunity to do it all over, to not be in love with Top-hyung but with Jiyong instead, he’d say fuck all that bullshit.  It’s selfish but Top-hyung makes him feel fucking alive (again) and fuck anyone who thinks he should give all that up for anyone else.

 

This is his decision.  Top-hung did not snatch him from Jiyong.  Top-hyung has no obligation to make sure the two of the them aren’t fucking up their relationship.  He’s not obligated to back off or stay away or whatever crazy things he thinks he should be doing.  That’s all on Seungri.

 

Truth is even if there was no one else he would still leave.

 

When he was young and stupid and madly in love with Jiyong he thought they would last forever.  Nine years is a good go though.

 

And he did.  Love Jiyong, that is.

 

He _did_.  He loved Jiyong with everything he had.

 

He doesn’t anymore.  Not in the way that counts at least.

 

He hasn’t for a long time and he stayed in this relationship longer than he should have.

 

If only the fangirls knew.  They would think this was some heart-wrenching end to a great, epic romance or something.  They would probably write fanfics about it.  Hell, there might be some already.  Truth is it was nothing like that.  It wasn’t some huge, epic falling out, the ground ripped from beneath his feet, leaving him devastated.  It was surprisingly gradual, their ending.  Like a sunset, bright yellow light burning into shades of red and orange and gold before fizzling into hues of pink and purple and blue and then gone.

 

Huh.  It  _is_ a little sad now that he thinks about it.  Maybe he  _is_ a little torn up, an ache burrowing into his chest to see it all having to end.  Like hell is he going to let that stop him from going after what he wants though.

 

It’s not that he doesn’t care about Jiyong.  He cares a whole damn lot.  Just not enough to stop or stay anymore.  What would he achieve by staying?  What would be the point?  A lifetime of mediocre contentment because Jiyong was his first serious anything?  The first person he ever loved other than himself?  Because he should be a nice guy and loyal and stay for the sake of all those three thousand and two hundred or so days they spent together?

 

Fuck.  That.

 

It’s not fair to him and it’s especially not fair to Jiyong.  If anything, Jiyong deserves to find someone who actually gives enough of a damn not to break his heart.  That’s his reasoning at least.  But then again, maybe it’s just something else he tells himself so he doesn’t feel like an asshole.

 

What makes him so sure that either of them (him and Top-hyung) will stay together until one of them dies or something?  He thought him and Jiyong were going to be forever and nine years is a long time but it sure as hell isn’t the forever he had thought of.  What makes Top-hyung so different?  what makes him so special?  Honestly, Seungri has no fucking clue.  He’s not even sure they’ll last more than two days together without one of them being driven insane by the other.  He still doesn’t care.

 

Why does everything have to be reasoned away anyway?  Why does everything need to be explained and put into neat, little, organized boxes?

 

Does there have to be a reason?  Will a half-assed one make everything okay?

 

Fine.

 

Because things between the two of them haven’t been okay for a long while now and it took Top-hyung’s drunk ass confessing like a girl (or well, you know, more factually, not denying being in love with him) to have his eyes opened for him.  They had fallen into this thing where it’s not even love anymore.  Just an all too familiar and comfortable lifestyle.  It was easy and after so long together it better damn well should have been.  But that was it.  Easy.  Nothing else.  No heat, no passion.  Hell, he can’t remember the last time he wanted to fuck Jiyong.  Jiyong can cheat on him with some random person and it would be like--

 

Nothing.

 

He doesn’t fucking care.  Won’t feel a thing.

 

No, that’s not true.  Relief.  That’s what he could feel.

 

Because it at least gives him an out.

 

But that’s the crux of it all, isn’t it?

 

He wants _out_.

 

He’s tried denying it ever since he realized he doesn’t want to stay anymore.  He rationalized it to himself, repeating over and over that it’s just a rut, all couples go through this.  They just need to find that spark they felt in the beginning and ignite it again.  After tonight he acknowledges that he’s been lying to himself.

 

Any relationship can work if you communicate and try.

 

Maybe that’s true.  Maybe it’s not.  Truth is he doesn’t want to try anymore. He doesn’t care anymore.

 

What does any of this have to do with Top-hyung?

 

Well, nothing.  But then again, everything.

 

If anyone asks for a reason, for why Top-hyung, he doesn’t have one.  All he knows is that while things with Jiyong had run it’s course, faded away into black, leaving behind nothing but ashes it doesn’t feel that way with Top-hyung.  With Top-hyung he feels alive.  That hum of excitement underneath his fingertips feels like it’s been there since the beginning, since he was sixteen and stupid and overconfident but still so scared and awkward around Top-hyung because he was so much older.  Three years was a lot back then.  Three years mean nothing now.

 

This feeling has always been a part of him.  This feeling of looking up at Top-hyung with stars in his eyes, like a puppy wanting to please his owner.  Everyone in Big Bang is like that.  They surround Top-hyung with adoring eyes and seek his love and approval.  Except now, for Seungri, that feeling has an added dimension.  Something too real.  Something deeper.  That same something that both exhilarates and scares him all at once.

 

It never feels like settling when he’s with Top-hyung.  They have so much fun together when it’s just the two of them.  Even when they’re doing nothing.  Even when all Top-hyung wants to do is stare at art and paintings and chairs, all the things that Seungri has no hope of understanding because he has no patience for such things.  But when he’s with Top-hyung, those things -- chairs and paintings and art -- don’t feel boring, don’t feel like wasting time.  It feels like being on a yacht in the middle of the ocean, calm, the waves gently rocking him back and forth, lulling him to sleep as the sun warms his skin.  Like a moment of perfect happiness.

 

Seungri wants that.  Desperately yearns for it.  He’s never been good about not getting what he wants but he’s always been particularly good about going after it.  He wants Top-hyung so he’s going to go after him, the rest of the world be damned.

 

The security guard doesn’t do much more than give him a quick glance before waving him through to the elevators, even at this late hour.  He’s been a fixture in his hyung’s life so much these past few months, visiting and coming and going as much as he wants, that the staff here, at Top-hyung’s apartment building, doesn’t question whether or not he’s expected anymore.  Thank God because he’s not sure how he would get into the building otherwise.

 

Getting into the building is easy.  Getting Top-hyung to let him into his condo is an entirely different story.

 

His fist pounds on the door, the noise loud and disruptive.  “Hyung!”

 

“I’m not home!”

 

He keeps pounding.  “Let me in!”

 

A beat.

 

“Go away!”

 

“I’ll camp out here,” he says, deceptively smooth and calm.  “Don’t think I won’t.  Then all your actor friends and neighbors are going to walk by and wonder why there’s a guy sitting at your door crying.”

 

He settles down for a long wait, back sliding down along the heavy wood door blocking entry into Top-hyung’s apartment.  Halfway down the door unexpectedly disappears, flung open by the other man and Seungri falls back, head connecting to the tiled floor of the foyer.  He stares up at Top-hyung as he blinks the stars out of his eyes.

 

“Don’t… cry,” he hears, genuine anguish in said voice and he bites the grin away, all the while knowing it will end in his defeat.  Top-hyung.  Older and more handsome but still so cute it should be a crime.

 

“Hyung,” he says, still on the ground, finally giving in and smiling up at him.  “I love you.”

 

“Aish, don’t say things like that so easily.”  Top-hyung offers a hand to pull him up even as he ducks his head to hide his blush.  Seungri takes said offered hand, relishing in the warmth and calluses he feels against his own much, much softer hands.  “People might misunderstand,” he tacks on as he side steps around Seungri to close the door.

 

Seungri spins around so they’re face to face.  “No misunderstanding.  I want to be with you.”

 

There’s a look of panic on Top-hyung’s face, he can see it quite clearly.  For someone as good of an actor as Top-hyung is he’s surprisingly bad at schooling his features in his private life, expressive eyes giving everything away.  Seungri knows the inner turmoil rushing through his head right now.  Can he?  What about Jiyong?  Jiyong is one of his closest friends.  He can’t.  He can’t but he wants to so bad.  Is that wrong?  Does that make him a terrible person?

 

Can he really have this?

 

Seungri wants to shout  _yes_ at the top of his lungs, wants to shout it to the whole world that of course they can have this.  Who cares if that makes them terrible people?  He doesn’t say that though.  What he does actually say is different, responsible and selfless for a change because he never wants Top-hyung to feel guilty for anything.

 

“I’ll make it right.”

 

Top-hyung scoffs at him even as he shrivels in on himself.  “Right?  How can any of this be right?  I’m stealing one of my best friend’s boyfriend.”

 

He closes the distance between them and grips Top-hyung’s head between his hands.  “Listen,” he says, eyes boring right into the older man’s.  “You can’t steal me.  I don’t belong to anyone but myself.  We were over a long time ago, okay?”  He sees the protest forming.  He nips it.  “ _Listen_.  I’m not just saying this to make you feel better.  I would never do that to you, okay?”

 

Top-hyung nods, croaks out, “Okay.”

 

“Good.  So we’re going to do this right.  Well, as right as it can be.  I’m going to break things off with Jiyong, and then I want to be with you.  Do you want to be with me?”

 

Another nod, slow this time, to say that he does but his eyes are wide as if he can’t quite believe anything happening is actually real.  Fucking Christ.  Top-hyung is going to be the death of him.  He steals a kiss.  It’s the only one he thinks he’ll get until he ends it with Jiyong so it’s filthy and dirty and filled with promises he hopes to fulfill sometime soon.  A thrill runs down his spine when Top-hyung’s arms squeezes around his waist, pulling him in closer.

 

Somehow they end up on the floor in the middle of the living room, backs on a too expensive rug, ear to ear, legs sprawled out in opposite directions as they stare up at Top-hyung’s chandelier.  A comfortable lull in their conversation has settled in, making him feel warm and drowsy.

 

“How long?” he asks, a throwaway question to fill in the space, to keep him awake because he doesn’t want this moment to end just yet.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“You know, loving me and stuff.”

 

“‘And stuff’.  How eloquent.”

 

Any other time he’d reach up and pinch Top-hyung in retaliation but he’s too comfortable to move.  Everything feels light and hazy, like he’s floating in a dream.  Top-hyung keeps quiet but Seungri feels him shuffle around, the ghost of a breath against the side of his neck.  He musters enough energy to turn his own head until they’re eye to eye, angled downward and staring through slits.  And then Top-hyung stretches over, closes the distance between them until their lips meet.  It’s soft, chaste, barely a brush of their lips before Seungri opens his mouth to welcome Top-hyung in.  The kiss deepens but stays slow, sensual, and he thinks he can do just this forever.

 

It goes on and on and on, unhurried, like time doesn’t exist.  In sync. Connected.  Eventually they do break apart, necks aching and cramped but they share a smile.  It hits him then.  He doesn’t quite understand how or why he suddenly remembers.

 

“Secret Big Bang,” he mumbles out, a low hum, barely above a whisper, answering his own previous question as their lips brush again.

 

“How’d you know?” There’s a bit of awe there in Top-hyung’s voice.

 

“Your identity crisis.  You kept joking about it back then but it wasn’t a joke, was it?”

 

A puff of warm air against his lips and then solemnly, as if pulling away, “No.  It wasn’t.”

 

Seungri turns his whole body onto its side towards Top-hyung.  “Don’t do that.”

 

“What am I doing?”

 

“You’re locking me out.  I don’t want that between us.”

 

Something flicks across Top-hyung’s face, subtle and then gone before Seungri can even attempt to figure it out.  But then Top-hyung’s face relaxes, eyes gentle, mouth settling into a soft upward curl and it’s enough to have Seungri breathing easy again.  He realizes a beat after that he’d been holding his breath.

 

“Seungri, when did you become so grown-up?”

 

The question breaks the tension and suddenly a laugh bursts out, patting Top-hyung’s cheek once, twice, three times, knowing it’s a rare opportunity to do so without any repercussions.

 

“Hyung, between the two of us I was always the older one,” he teases, smirk sneaking onto his mouth.

 

Top-hyung wipes it off with another stolen kiss.  They should probably stop with all the kissing but he can’t bring himself to pull away or stop.  Until he ends things properly with Jiyong kisses are about all Top-hyung is willing to give him and it’s completely selfish but he’s going to take whatever the hell he can get.

 

Of course breaking up with Jiyong isn’t as easy as he had hoped or thought it would be because the universe hates him.  Actually downright hates him so that it has something against him being happy.  Or at least it loves to torture him first before allowing him any shred of happiness.  Okay, so maybe he’s being a little melodramatic at the moment.  Sue him.  It’s been three weeks and he can’t get in one good moment alone with Jiyong to tell him it’s over.  Three.  Fucking.  Weeks.

 

One would think it would be easy.  It takes one short conversation between two people, and really it just takes one person saying they don’t want to continue the relationship anymore for it to be over.  But three weeks.  Three fucking weeks and he can’t get Jiyong to give him two seconds.  He’s almost at his wit’s end, wants to say fuck it and dive right in, lie if he has to and deal with the consequences afterwards.  But he had told Top-hyung he wouldn’t do that to him, that they’d do it right and maybe he’s incredibly selfish and a dick and an asshole most of the time but not to Top-hyung.  Never to Top-hyung because well… Seungri doesn’t think he will be able to stand that look of betrayal and disappointment directed at him.

 

It’s not that he hasn’t tried.  He has tried really fucking hard but every time he asks for a moment alone Jiyong clams up, face clouding over, closed off like he’s hiding something even as he promises later.  Always later.  But when the hell is later going to come?  Another day?  Another week?  Another month?  It’s always, “Ri, I can’t right now.  Teddy-hyung is waiting for me,” attached with a quick kiss he doesn’t return or “I can’t tonight.  Youngbae and I are working on his next album.”

 

Top-hyung has been patient.  Way more than him and that too is driving him insane.  He’s waited years, he had told Seungri, breathed it against his neck.  He can wait a for more weeks.  However long it takes, implied.  The thing is Seungri doesn’t want to wait a few more weeks.  He doesn’t even want to wait another minute.  He just wants to be in the next part of his life already.  Maybe it’s cruel to think that but every day that passes he sees the light dimming in Top-hyung’s eyes.  Like he thinks Seungri isn’t serious about him.  Like Seungri is stalling.  He sees it because Top-hyung might be older and more handsome and charismatic and mysterious on-screen most of the time but off-screen he’s shy and childish and his eyes are so expressive.  He can’t hide anything and that’s just one of the things Seungri loves about him so much.

 

So it’s another day, another failure and even though Top-hyung tells him it’s okay, they’ve got time and offers up a smile when Seungri tells him so it doesn’t light up his face like all his smiles should.  Top-hyung’s smiles should never be forced, not if he can help it.  His hand reaches out instinctively to stop him as Top-hyung tries to bypass him on his way out to his patio, unlit cigarette already between his fingers, gripping around his elbow to stop his escape.

 

“Don’t get it into your head that I’m, I don’t know, changing my mind on us or something.  Because I’m not.  At all.”

 

“Not even a little?”  It’s the way Top-hyung says the words, a low whisper made lower by the natural pitch of his voice, that tugs at Seungri’s heart.

 

“Not even for one second.”  He puts all the conviction he feels into his voice and knows he’s succeeded when Top-hyung throws him a small, hidden smile, one that lights up his eyes.  The guilt must be eating at him too.  Now that they’re this close Seungri can see the haggardness in his face and the lack of sleep in the corners of his eyes.  Top-hyung is a good person.  Of course the guilt was eating at him.  And yet he’s suffering through all of it to be with him, not even rushing Seungri along and well… Fuck.

 

He can’t help himself.  He steals another kiss, hand sliding down from where it had previously stopped along the rest of Top-hyung’s arm so that he can lace their fingers together.  They spend the rest of the night sitting outside on the patio, the outside fireplace burning to keep the evening chill away.  His hyung chain-smokes as they watch the sun set and the glow of Seoul city lights take over.

 

Later when it’s closer to sunrise than sunset, the moon halfway across the sky, and he’s warm and cozy and dozing off while wrapped up in a blanket, Top-hyung nudges him with a foot to tell him he has to go home.  He whines and tosses over, turning away and burrowing himself deeper into the lounge.  He’s too tired and too comfortable to want to do anything else, much less go home.

 

“Hey,” Top-hyung begins again, starting to tug at the blanket. “Seungri.  Go home.”  He says it like it’s going to change anything.

 

Another gentle tug on his blanket has him whining again, this time louder, and he keeps a death grip on the blanket, refusing to relinquish it before throwing it over his head.  He’s not moving and nothing is going to make him do anything he doesn’t want to.  He thinks he hears a chuckle but doesn’t dwell too long on that as he slips back into sleep.  He jerks awake some time later to find himself on the couch after having been brought inside, a much thicker blanket thrown over him to keep him warm.  It’s little things like this that is going to be the death of him.  Little things like this and Choi Seunghyun himself.  He burrows back into the couch and the blanket, wrapped up in the scent of Top-hyung and falls back into slumber.

 

Maybe it’s because he got too comfortable with Jiyong not being around and that made him bold or something.  It was stupid.   _He_ was stupid.  He should have remembered that the universe hates him and takes every opportunity it can to make him feel miserable.  Regardless, he should have known better than to take the chance but it was during a rehearsal and everyone was still screaming and everything was chaotic and there’s adrenaline pumping through his veins and there Top-hyung was, tall and gorgeous with his silly cowboy hat and sunglasses and in that moment he wanted just two seconds alone.  Everyone’s running around like their heads are chopped off so he thinks  _fuck it_ and crowds Top-hyung into a dark corner and kisses him right then and there, reaches up on his toes to brush their lips together, arms snaking around Top-hyung’s neck before he parts his lips and deepens it.

 

And then everything happens too fast.  He’s wrenched away and he hisses in pain when his wrist connects with something, probably a stage beam.  He looks up just in time to see Jiyong take a swing at Top-hyung, sees it all in slow motion as Jiyong’s fist flies and connects with Top-hyung’s jaw.  Top-hyung’s head goes with the force.  He doesn’t try to stop it.  He doesn’t even try to fight back.  His head hangs to the side but he doesn’t right it and Seungri knows it’s because he can’t bring himself to look at Jiyong.

 

This is all his fault.  Fuck.  _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck_!

 

When it looks like Jiyong is going for another punch he throws himself between the two older men, back towards Top-hyung and hands pressed against Jiyong’s chest to stop him, to push him away.  “Hyung, stop!”

 

Now everyone is staring at the three of them, confusion and curiosity in their eyes.  He’d never seen a backstage so silent before.  He wants to say something, to explain, to apologize, anything really but the words catch in his throat.

 

Jiyong stares right past him.  “You and me?” he starts, words filled anger and venom directed at Top-hyung.  “We’re done.”  Then he’s stomping away, parting the sea of scared staff members with the clear “fuck off” written in body language.  Seungri stands there like an idiot, watching Jiyong walk away.  It’s not until the whispering starts that he jerks into motion.

 

He’s going to make this right.  He will definitely make this right.  He whips around.  “Wait for me, okay?”  He doesn’t wait for Top-hyung’s answer before he’s bounding past the crowd and out the door, chasing after Jiyong.

 

An hour later and he starts getting desperate, wondering where the fuck Jiyong could have gone if not home or his favorite club, and then it hits him that he’s a fucking idiot.  Of course he would go to his studio.  Of fucking course.  He’s told Seungri a million times it’s the place that feels most like home.  Twenty minutes later he’s inching the door open, closing it gently behind him and watching Jiyong sit at the keyboard, slumped forward and no longer angry.  That might change though, once he opens his mouth.

 

“Hey.”  He tests out the word, draws it out low and soothing.  There isn’t even a pause.  The only acknowledgement he gets is in the form of Jiyong banging at the keyboard with rage and anger and violence, enough so that for the first time in his life he’s sort of scared of Jiyong.  Seungri says nothing else, waits forever for him to stop or run out of steam or something.

 

“That’s not how I wanted it to go,” Seungri begins again, approaching from the side, sitting down on the couch perpendicular to the other, cautious as he watches a war of emotions flit across Jiyong’s face.  He’s no longer attempting to destroy the keyboard with his bare hands, at least.

 

It’s clearly not the right thing to say.  Jiyong’s face hardens, cold and hot and like he could kill.  “How the hell did you want it to go, Seungri?”  Jiyong throws in his face.  “Would you rather I have found you two fucking?  Or would you rather I didn’t find out at all?  Two people I trusted most in the fucking world betrays me and you thought, what?  It would be okay if you say you’re really, really sorry?  That it would be that fucking easy?  That you can just come crawling back like nothing ever happened?”

 

Seungri sucks in a breath.  Jiyong has never been cruel just to be cruel before.  He doesn’t know what to think.  He coils away, burned.  “I am sorry,” he tries again.  “That’s not how I wanted it to go but I’m no-” The word catches in his throat.  He tries again.  “I don’t want to come back.”

 

Jiyong’s nostrils flare.  It’s another round of angry piano sounds and for the first time in his life he has no idea what to fucking do.  

 

One step at a time, he repeats, psyching himself up mentally.  Deep calming breaths -- once, twice.  He tries to speak over the noise.  “I’ve wanted to break up with you for weeks but you wouldn’t give me a moment alone.  You were always busy working with Teddy-hyung or on Youngbae-hyung’s next album.  You kept saying, ‘later, later,’ but later never came.”

 

A clang and then sudden silence, the tension now more prominent because of it.  “Oh, you think because you tried that makes it okay?”  His tone is condescending and it bites.

 

“I know it’s far from okay,” he says in reply.  “But it’s the only truth I’ve got.”

 

“You want the truth?”  Jiyong doesn’t wait.  “I don’t even know who I’m more angry at, you for being an asshole or myself for being so stupid.  I saw you and Top-hyung coming a fucking mile away.”

 

The words sink in, a revelation that is almost devastating.  Carefully, measured, his voice almost trapped in his throat, he chokes out, “You knew?”

 

The reply is immediate.  “Of course I fucking knew.  You don’t know the way you look at him, Ri.  You look at him like he makes you want to be a good person.  I’ve never seen that look on your stupid, handsome face before, you know that?  You’re always so selfish.  It’s all about what you want and what makes you happy and then you go right ahead and just take it but I see the way you are with him, huddled together in your own little world.  You do everything you can to make  _him_ happy.  It was so fucking obvious the whole damn world could see.  But I just kept telling myself you two have always been close.  With me giving you so little attention you just wanted someone else to pay attention to you.  I thought it was just some little thing that would go away on it’s own or some dumb shit like that.”

 

“Oh.”  He’s at a loss for words.  He doesn’t have a single thing to say.  All his words abandon him, leave him fending for himself.  He grasps at something, anything, until finally something breaks through.  “It’s not--” for the first time he falters, guilt-ridden.  “It’s not going away.”

 

“Yeah, no shit,” Jiyong spits out at him.  And then a shift so sudden it throws Seungri for a loop.  Jiyong blinks rapidly and then throws his head back, eyes focused on the ceiling.  “I went over to your place to surprise you one day.  You wouldn’t fucking know because you never came home.  I thought it would be a nice thing, you know?  I knew I was working too much.  I sat in your stupid fucking apartment for hours and hours but you never came back.  I sat there waiting and waiting and I don’t even fucking know what for.  I just felt like you were slipping away and I realized I was slipping away from you too.  We don’t fucking fit the way we used to anymore  I always thought we’d grow old together but instead we just fucking grew apart.  I knew it was over.  Winding down or some shit like that but I thought, I don’t know what I thought.  Maybe that I could fix it before we broke or something but that was stupid.  There was nothing left to fix.”

 

Maybe it’s the way Jiyong is saying his words: angry on the surface but broken and defeated underneath.  Maybe it’s because he’d separated himself from the relationship actually ending so much, locking it away in a corner of his mind and never accessing it that it’s suddenly hitting him now that they’re really breaking up.  Nine years and they’re breaking up.  It’s an unexpected flood of emotions that take over.  Next thing he knows tears are pricking in his eyes and his throat closes up.  He’s sad all of a sudden, an ache in his chest that blooms slowly until it begins to overwhelm.  He wipes furiously at his eyes but it does nothing to stop the flow of tears.  The more he tries the harder they fall.

 

He fucking deserves it.

 

They sit there like two idiots, Jiyong crying silently, beautiful as his eyes stay trained on the ceiling, Seungri loud and ugly, wiping away at tears and snot and trying not to hyperventilate.  Five, ten minutes passes.  Too long.  His chest has stopped heaving at least.  That means he’s starting to calm down, right?  Starting to get himself under control?  Jiyong seems to have lost it though because out of nowhere he breaks out a laugh, tinted with hint of hysteria.  Once he starts he can’t seem to stop, not even when he sees the worry clear in Seungri’s eyes.  In fact, it looks like that only spurs him on.

 

He’s scared he’s broken Jiyong somehow.

 

Finally, Jiyong manages through his gasps for air, “You wanna hear something funny?”

 

He answers slowly, careful, throat raw.  “What?”

 

“Before you I had the biggest crush on Top-hyung.”

 

It shouldn’t be as funny as it actually is.  They both burst out laughing, Seungri cackling towards the sky and Jiyong with muted little sighs hidden behind the back of his hands, much calmer now that he’s shared his secret.  The joy doesn’t last though.  It fades away too soon, leaving behind an awkwardness he hasn’t felt since those first three months after they met, Seungri desperate for approval and love and affection from Jiyong and Jiyong refusing to give it, cold and aloof, pretending he doesn’t exist because he’d thought it was always going to be him and Youngbae taking on the underground music world together.  A duo.  One team just the two of them.

 

He clears his throat, unsure of where to go next but takes a stab in the dark.  “I did love you.  I loved you for years.”  Jiyong hums in response as he starts toying with the keyboard, pretty piano notes filling in the space.  

 

Jiyong sighs, curling in on himself and it looks the weight of the world is on his shoulders.  “Ri, I’m smart enough to have figured out we were over months ago.  Probably a lot longer than this thing you’ve got going on with Top-hyung.  It’s still not fucking cool though.  I’ve never been this pissed off before.”

 

An inkling forms in the pit of his stomach.  He asks, “Do  _you_ want to get back together?”  No matter his answer, it’s not going to change Seungri’s mind.  He’s made his decision a long time ago.  With how today is going a month ago feels like ten years has passed.  Instinct is telling him something though.

 

Jiyong’s brows furrow, eyes narrowed, then cautiously, “Not really, no.”

 

He pushes.  “Can you honestly say you’re still in love with me.”

 

Silence.  Then hesitant.  “No.”  A beat passes.  “That’s what makes this whole thing fucking suck so much.”

 

What does one say in response to that? He throws in a crude joke.  “At least we’re still young.  Better now than twenty years from now when our balls are sagging and wrinkled, right?  How would we get anyone then?”

 

It’s not even that funny.  Actually, it’s not funny at all but it puts a smile on Jiyong’s face.  It’s been a long time since he was able to do that.  It used to come so easy.  He used to be able to make Jiyong laugh, bright and happy, in a matter of a seconds.  A nagging thought in the back of his mind tells him that yeah, he always made Jiyong laugh before, but the one person who always made him laugh and smile like an idiot was (still is) Top-hyung.  He should have known.  He’s a dumbass.

 

“Really.  I did love you,” he repeats again, wants Jiyong to know that it’s the truth.  “It’s just different now.”

 

“I get it,” Jiyong says, then parrots back, wary, “I loved you too.  Just, I don’t know.  I need some time to think.”

 

Seungri offers a quick hand.  “Friends?”  Jiyong stares at it for a moment too long, contemplative, and Seungri knows what’s coming before it even happens.  Jiyong shakes his head no.  Oh.  He didn’t think would hurt like this.  He didn’t even expect rejection in the first place.

 

“Too soon,” Jiyong says, giving his reason.  “Big Bang is Big Bang no matter what, and Big Bang is the five of us together but I seriously need some space.  I can’t look at the two of you together and not want to punch someone in the face.”

 

Fair enough point.  “When you’re ready,” he agrees, dropping his hand.  “When you’re ready let’s be friends again.”

 

A tight smile answers him.  “Maybe.”  The only word that Jiyong says.  It ends that conversation, but Seungri is hopeful.  Maybe’s from Jiyong are almost always positives.  “You should go.”

 

“Ah!  Of course.”  And now he’s a bumbling fool. He stumbles his way to the door, trying not to trip.  Halfway there Jiyong stops him with his words.  He doesn’t turn around to face Seungri.  Instead he toys with the keyboard again, a melody he hasn’t heard before filling the room. Jiyong has always been a genius with melodies, forming them out of thin air it seems like sometimes.

 

“I get to keep Youngbae and Daesung.”

 

He could protest, say that Jiyong can’t just claim people or ban him from seeing them.  They’re his friends too but there’s something vulnerable in the line of Jiyong’s back and shoulders that stops him.  It’s the least he can do.  Jiyong probably needs them more than he does.  He has Top-hyung and honestly that’s enough for him, enough to make everything more than just okay.  “Keep them,” he says, lips spread wide in a grin before he’s out the door and closing it gently behind him on his way out, chest heaving out a sigh, feeling a weight lift off his chest as he exhales.

 

Back pressed against the door, he looks down at his watch and curses, sighing under his breath.  Two and a half, three hours have passed.  Any sane person would have gone home by now.  Still.  _Maybe_ …

 

He races to the venue as fast as he can, all speed limits and safety be damned.  Top-hyung would have been cursing him to all kinds of hell if he was in the passenger seat.  He always did say Seungri drove too fast, that he’d get into another serious accident soon if he doesn’t slow the fuck down.  Please slow down, he had begged once and Seungri had promised.  This is the last time he will do something this reckless.

 

His car screeches to a halt.  It’s so late now.  Everyone must have gone home already, especially since Jiyong had stormed out unplanned.  All non-emergency lights are turned off, creating an eerie yellow glow inside the building that seeps out through the high warehouse building.  He rests his head against the steering wheel and resists the urge to bang his head against it repeatedly.

 

Fuck.  _Fuck._ He keeps fucking up tonight.  He sighs and takes out his phone, dialing Top-hyung with an apology ready on his lips.  Out of the corner of his eyes, he catches the soft white glow of a cell phone as Top-hyung picks up, following it until he meets Top-hyung’s face.  Idiot.  He gets out of the car and slowly approaches his hyung.  The first thing he says into his cell is, “Hyung, I’m sorry.”

 

He watches a sad smile spread across Top-hyung’s face.  “It’s alright.”

 

“Where are you?” It’s stupid to ask.  He knows where Top-hyung is.

 

“Where do you think, idiot?  At home.  You didn’t think I was going to wait for you, did you?”  He is an actor indeed.  If Seungri wasn’t staring at him right now, he would have believed the lie.  He can’t believe he hasn’t been noticed yet though.  This close he can see Top-hyung on the ground, back on the hard concrete walls of their practice warehouse venue, knees drawn up, head hanging between his legs, a line of defeat that runs from his neck down to his shoulders.  The sight is enough to break him.  He approaches gingerly, careful, not wanting to startle him.

 

He ends the call without saying goodbye.  Dropping down to a low squat in front of the other man, he pierces the silence.  “I think you’re right here waiting for me.”

 

Top-hyung’s shoulders shake but he doesn’t look up.  “So, happy couple back together I take it?  Everything all dandy and sunshine again?”

 

A sigh threatens to escape but he traps it in, ass dropping onto the cement, legs crossed at the ankles, arms wrapped loosely around his knees, one wrist hooked in the hold of his other hand to keep him secure. “Who’s the idiot now?”  He tries for playful but fails miserably.  His day has been too long already, long and emotionally exhausting.

 

“Still you,” Top-hyung grumbles out, still refusing to look at him.

 

Seungri ignores that.  “I told you I’d come back.”

 

“No, you didn’t.”  This time the sigh does escape.  Top-hyung, the childishly petulant man.  “I believe your words were, ‘wait for me, okay?’ before dashing out after your boyfriend.”

 

“Yeah, meaning wait for me because I’m definitely coming back.”

 

This time Top-hyung ignores his words.  “Obviously you two got back together so just tell me so we can get this over with.”

 

It’s baffling the things Top-hyung gets into his head sometimes when he’s left alone for too long.  “Obviously Jiyong and I got back together?  Where are you even getting this?”

 

“You chased after him and disappeared for hours.  What am I supposed to think?”

 

He nudges the tip of Top-hyung’s shoe with his.  “You were supposed to think about the fact that I was breaking up with him, not getting back together.  The only guy I want to be with is you.”

 

Silence takes over.  It’s neither awkward nor comfortable.  More like a pause, a moment of stillness before pressing play.  Finally, _finally_ , Top-hyung raises his head up so their eyes meet.  They’re red and puffy, meaning he must have cried at some point and that makes Seungri feel like a jerk.  He propels himself forward and onto his knees, right into Top-hyung’s space.

 

“Hyung,” he chokes out, strained, the rest of his sentence caught in his throat.  Screw words.  He grabs Top-hyung’s face in both hands, tilts his head up, and kisses him for all he’s worth, a clash of lips and mouth and teeth, claiming and owning and telling him he’s not letting go for anything or anyone.

 

“I love you,” he breathes out after, harsh puffs of hot air against Top-hyung’s mouth.  “Don’t you get that?  I love you so much it drives me crazy sometimes.”

 

“Yeah?”  

 

Seungri nods.  “It’s you and me.”

 

The laugh that bubbles up from Top-hyung sounds almost like a sob.  “I love you,” he mumbles against Seungri’s mouth.  “I’m so in love with you I don’t know what to do anymore.”

 

The kiss that follows is everything he has ever wanted.

 

They stumble their way back home, hot breaths lingering between the two of them as they get in as many kisses as possible.  In his car at red lights, at stop signs.  In the elevator while riding it up to Top-hyung’s floor to against the door of Top-hyung’s condo, hands working recklessly at belts before Top-hyung manages to break free long enough to wrench the door open. Then in the bedroom, into the bed, a trail of clothes left in their wake, Seungri peering down through long, pretty lashes to watch Top-hyung trail a line of kisses down, down, down, one hand laced in the fine black hair at the back of Top-hyung’s head.  There is a moment when Top-hyung stills above him, hot breath against his aching dick, that their eyes meet.  It’s a single second that drags on, slows time down, and Seungri is suddenly filled with so much love and affection, lust and desire gone for the moment.  He brushes a thumb against the corner of Top-hyung’s mouth, feels a gentle smile take over his face.

 

“Hey,” he says, low, a secret between the two of them.

 

Top-hyung smiles up at him.  “Hey,” he returns just as low, just as gentle.  It rips him apart and puts him back together all in one go.

 

This is home.  Here, in Top-hyung’s condo.  It’s more home than his own apartment two floors below Youngbae’s.  Top-hyung’s condo with its expensive furniture and its excessive amount of toys and bearbricks littering its hallways and bedrooms feel more like home than anywhere else in the world.  For the first time they fall asleep together, near-naked in their underwear, surrounded by a million pillows in Top-hyung’s overly luxurious and fluffy bed, studying each other’s faces and expressions, the curves of Top-hyung’s brows, the subtle curl of his lips when he smiles, until they start to doze off.  This feels right. It’s warm and cozy and right and that feeling nestles right into his chest.

 

Morning is the two of them waking up later than they should, half past ten in the morning, lazy and content.  Breakfast is two cups of coffee at the table, Top-hyung posting a billion pictures on his instagram and then deleting half of them two seconds later without rhyme or reason.  It must drive the fans crazy as they try to figure out his logic.  That’s probably why he does it.  To mess with them.  To keep everyone on their toes and hanging off his every word.  Their feet are linked together under the tables, ankles against ankles, hot skin burning against hot skin as he watches Top-hyung over the rim of his coffee cup like a lovesick fool.

 

He was wrong before.   _This_ is everything he has ever wanted.  This -- here in Top-hyung’s condo, falling asleep side by side to the fluttering of his own heartbeat as he watches the slow in and out of Top-hyung’s breathing, waking up next to him in the morning, coffee as breakfast because they’re both too lazy to cook day after day -- this feels like a moment of perfect happiness.

 

\----

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [alchemicink](http://archiveofourown.org/users/alchemicink/pseuds/alchemicink) for looking over this fic and all the encouragement she gave me, especially since I only really loved the first half of the fic at first =)
> 
> But yes, I titled it "Ride With Me" because as I started writing this fic I kept thinking, "Seungri could not ride with GD," and that was hilarious to me. I wanted to share that with everyone LOL.
> 
> Anyhow, I hope that you all enjoyed =)


End file.
